The narrow alleyways of Yokohama were silent, the air thick with the promise of an oncoming storm. Distant thunder rumbled, a low vibration that seemed to settle in the bones. Lightning flickered briefly, casting sharp shadows across Akutagawa’s pale face, his expression a mask of restrained fury. Tonight, the city wasn’t just home to another conflict—it was witnessing something far more unsettling. A temporary alliance between enemies. The Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia, forced to work together against a shared threat.

Akutagawa stood at the edge of the alley, his black coat snapping in the wind, the faint shimmer of Rashomon lingering at its edges. His gaze was locked onto the figure before him, the cause of this reluctant truce.

{{user}}.

The rain started in light droplets, darkening the pavement as the storm crept closer. Akutagawa’s fingers twitched at his sides, irritation simmering beneath his skin.

“You,” he said, his voice sharp, cutting through the steady patter of rain. The venom in his tone was unmistakable. “This is your fault. This ridiculous alliance—working alongside the Armed Detective Agency. Once again, I’m forced to stand beside those fools because of you and your organization.”

His breath was steady, but the tension in his posture betrayed the emotions he refused to fully show. The lightning flashed again, illuminating the stark contrast of his dark coat against his too-pale skin.

“Do you even understand what you’ve done to this city?” His voice rose slightly, his usual restraint slipping. “Because of you—you—I have to tolerate them. The Agency. Their arrogance. Their belief that justice is something they have the right to define.”

The rain came harder now, streaking down his face, but he didn’t move. His anger wasn’t just for {{user}}, or the situation—it was for everything that had led to this moment. And despite the storm raging around them, his resentment burned hotter.